Religious leaders are like the rest of us. They’re wearing the who-would-a-thunk-it look. It turns out 1968 was a rehearsal for 2020 – or, as George McKinney put it in a Facebook reply: “Not sure what to do when 1918 (the year of the killer flu epidemic) + 1929 (the market crashed) + 1968 = 2020. Laws of the universe seem askew.”

Those laws were especially frayed on May 25th, when America’s simmering undercurrent exploded into full view upon the death of 46-year-old George Floyd, an African American. Four Minneapolis police officers were involved in Floyd’s fatal restraint after the unemployed bouncer allegedly tried to pass a fake $20 bill. The officers seemed cavalier. Derek Chauvin, the 19-year veteran who knelt on Floyd’s neck, ignored his I-can’t-breathe pleas as well as appeals from video-reeling bystanders. Another officer repeatedly told Floyd to “get up” while Chauvin held him down.

All four were fired and eventually arrested, with Chauvin immediately charged with third-degree murder, now raised to second degree. Violent protests erupted across the country, with some heavy-handed National Guard troops and law enforcement officials emulating the 1968 police rioters.

It didn’t take long for theologians, pastors, educators, and Christian writers to shake off their who-would-a-thunk-it look and file their replies. Fuller Theological Seminary, an intellectual Mecca for post-conservative evangelicals, pinned this statement on its web site:

“Fuller, in the strongest of terms, denounces the senseless, brutal killing of George Floyd and the countless instances of abuse and othering of black and brown bodies in a long line of systemic injustice. We have, over the past few months, seen again this rhythm of violence. There is a temptation to view these occasions as isolated instances of radical hatred. But this violence is sadly not unique—it is in the core of our nation’s existence and the expressions of violence against non-white bodies that have been a perpetual rhythm since America’s founding.

“The protests and riots of the past few days have elicited a variety of responses. The loss of life is cause for full-throated lament, and it is for that reason that we choose to stand in solidarity with those who have lost loved ones, with those who are seeking justice, and with those who are advocating for drastic and overdue change. We believe this is consistent with the God revealed in our Scriptures, who in both Testaments disrupted established institutions for the sake of justice.

“In this moment, we must again turn towards our Savior, who intimately knows the contours of unjust violence. We must fervently ask for the Spirit’s guidance in examining ourselves, our institutions, our theologies, and practices for the ways in which they retain ideologies that disregard the humanity of all non-white peoples. And we must join our God in God’s own solidarity with the oppressed and the marginalized.

“This is not an abstract solidarity, but God’s presence in the midst of real pain and God’s concern for the black communities which have suffered devastation after devastation. It is that solidarity that guides us toward action. We urge those in elected positions, those in positions of power, those with privilege, and those who follow the crucified Savior Jesus to resist any justification for unjust killings, to act in bold love for the flourishing of marginalized communities, and, by God’s grace and bold power to create new rhythms that honor human life—rhythms that carry with them justice for George Floyd.“

Fuller President Mark Labberton used the occasion to discuss systems of oppression and generational trauma on his podcast with Dwight Radcliff, assistant provost for the William E. Pannell Center for African American Church Studies. Here’s the talk:

Fuller, of course, was not alone. Southern Baptist leaders issued a remarkable call for racial reconciliation. A sample:

“As a convention of churches committed to the equality and dignity of all people, Southern Baptists grieve the death of George Floyd, who was killed May 25, 2020, in Minneapolis, Minn.

“While all must grieve, we understand that in the hearts of our fellow citizens of color, incidents like these connect to a long history of unequal justice in our country, going back to the grievous Jim Crow and slavery eras. The images and information we have available to us in this case are horrific and remind us that there is much more work to be done to ensure that there is not even a hint of racial inequity in the distribution of justice in our country. We grieve to see examples of the misuse of force, and call for these issues to be addressed with speed and justice.“

They also reminded police of their duty to serve and protect:

“While we thank God for our law enforcement officers that bravely risk their lives for the sake of others and uphold justice with dignity and integrity, we also lament when some law enforcement officers misuse their authority and bring unnecessary harm on the people they are called to protect. We further grieve with our minority brothers and sisters in the wake of George Floyd’s death, pray for his family and friends and greatly desire to see the misuse of force and any inequitable distributions of justice come to an end.“

Other religious officials pounded their laptops as America leaped from nuts to crazy, with events crystallizing on June 1st. President Trump made a blustering Rose Garden speech as law enforcement officials fired tear gas and shot rubber bullets to disperse peaceful protesters in Lafayette Square. They were clearing the way so the president could walk to St. John’s Church, the basement of which had been damaged by fire, and hold a Bible aloft in a photo op.

Episcopalian Bishop Mariann Edgar Budde said she was “outraged” that the president used her church as a “prop.” He didn’t even notify her beforehand.

Many invited the president to crack open that Bible. The Rev. William Barber III and Jonathan Wilson-Hartgrove called his gesture “obscene” and a perversion of the Bible itself. They wrote:

“The Bible as a talisman has real political power. But we believe the words inside the book are more powerful. If we unite across lines of race, creed and culture to stand together on the moral vision of love, justice and truth that was proclaimed by Jesus and the prophets, we have the capacity to reclaim the heart of this democracy and work together for a more perfect union.“

Trump visited the Saint John Paul II National Shrine in Northeast Washington the following day, which prompted an angry reply from Archbishop Wilton Gregory:

“I find it baffling and reprehensible that any Catholic facility would allow itself to be so egregiously misused and manipulated in a fashion that violates our religious principles, which call us to defend the rights of all people even those with whom we might disagree. Saint Pope John Paul II was an ardent defender of the rights and dignity of human beings. His legacy bears vivid witness to that truth. He certainly would not condone the use of tear gas and other deterrents to silence, scatter or intimidate them for a photo opportunity in front of a place of worship and peace.“

A spokesman for the Knights of Columbus, which runs the shrine, said the White House “originally scheduled this as an event for the president to sign an executive order on international religious freedom,” which he did later that day.

All this comes as Trump’s popularity among evangelicals and conservative Catholics declines. Will they now snap back as he waves the Bible? Perhaps. Some on the religious right rallied to the president, but at least one stalwart colored outside the lines. Pat Robertson made an assessment of Trump’s bluster:

“It seems like now is the time to say, ‘I understand your pain, I want to comfort you, I think it’s time we love each other. But the President took a different course. He said, ‘I am the President of law and order,’ and he issued a heads-up. He said, ‘I’m ready to send in military troops if the nation’s governors don’t act to quell the violence that has rocked American cities.’ A matter of fact, he spoke of them as being jerks. You just don’t do that, Mr. President. It isn’t cool!”

Robertson denounced racism. “We’ve got to love each other, we just got to do that. We are all one race, and we need to love each other.”

So Pat Robertson is on the same page as Fuller Theological Seminary. Who would-a thunk it?

Nihilism’s intellects have emerged from the shadows in the wake of President Donald Trump’s March 22nd tweet: “WE CANNOT LET THE CURE BE WORSE THAN THE PROBLEM ITSELF. AT THE END OF THE 15 DAY PERIOD, WE WILL MAKE A DECISION AS TO WHICH WAY WE WANT TO GO!”

Hear the resurgence of Social Darwinism, a discredited 19th-century ideology that baptized rivalry. Modern-day advocates usually guise their cannons in the language of free enterprise and nonintervention and deregulation: Let market forces prevail and all will be well. But now they’re liberated amid the pandemic, free at last to sever their ties with traditional conservatives and proclaim their survival-of-the-fittest creed in all its glory. Some frame themselves as grim realists (“most can’t bear hearing this, but …”). Texas Lieutenant Governor Dan Patrick, a former right-wing radio host, even offered himself as a martyr: “No one reached out to me and said, ‘as a senior citizen, are you willing to take a chance on your survival in exchange for keeping the America that all America loves for your children and grandchildren?’ … And if that’s the exchange, I’m all in.”

Social Darwinism once held sway in the 19th century, when philosophers such as Herbert Spencer (1820-1903) applied theories of natural selection to human society: Might makes right in a pitiless universe. Robber barons and captains of industry employed it to enforce 12-hour work days and paltry wages. They snubbed Matthew 25:31-40 despite their church attendance. Jesus says he’ll line up the sheep and the goats at his second coming and invite the sheep into his kingdom: “for I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you welcomed me, I was naked and you gave me clothing, I was sick and you took care of me, I was in prison and you visited me.” They did that whenever they “did it to one of the least of these.”

That’s great for Sunday school, but we gotta come back to Earth on Monday.

A lawyer’s dilemma

Sample Attorney Scott A. McMillan. He boldly tweeted on March 23: “The fundamental problem is whether we are going to tank the entire economy to save 2.5% of the population which is (1) generally expensive to maintain and (2) not productive.”

Notice McMillan’s assumptions. Money’s everything. The sick and the elderly carry a huge price tag (they’re “generally expensive to maintain”) and fail to do their bit (they’re “not productive”). Don’t count the moments grandpa bounced little Emily on his knee or grandma told Joey she’d beat up the monster under his bed, thus ridding him of those nightmares. We can’t measure such trifles in billable hours, so they don’t count. Human beings are economic cogs; worth is always measured in dollars or stock options.

Ca-ching.

Classical Christianity, of course, says that’s twisted. We possess intrinsic worth because we’re made in God’s image. Money serves the human community, not vice versa. As Russell Moore says: “Each human life is more significant than a trillion-dollar gross national product.”

Most religion tries to overcome hostility and seeks harmony with God and neighbor; Social Darwinism lifts competition as a high virtue and assumes it pervades nature. Laura Ingraham of Fox News unwittingly displayed such presuppositions in a tweet posted a few hours after McMillan’s: “A global recession would be worse for our people than the Great Depression. Doctors provide medical treatment and cures – they should not be the determinative voices in policy making now or at the end of 15 days.”

Skip past the chasm between an intentional, curve-flattening short-term economic shutdown and the cataclysmic, system-wide crash of the 1930’s. For now, just probe how Ingraham funnels her mental energy. We could harness our thoughts, channel them toward synergy, and pose different questions: “How can medical and government wonks cooperate to save our lives and our pocket books?” But no. That’s not practical in a hostile world. The lions and hyenas are snarling over a carcass on the drought-riddled plain, so we carnivores better grab our chunk of meat before it rots. And watch your back. Every friend’s a potential foe. It’s rich versus poor; weak versus strong; young versus elderly; and doctors versus government officials.

Remember: Our questions well from our presuppositions and we mold reality accordingly. Nineteenth-century industrialists assumed a cutthroat universe and built factories with perilous working conditions. Later generations saw the world through different prisms. Factories are now safer and workers earn livable wages.

When “realism” doesn’t make sense

Some – such as Brit Hume, Dennis Prager, and Glenn Beck – have followed Ingraham’s path. RR Reno blasted Andrew Cuomo and suggested the New York governor was “dangerously sentimental” when he said this: “I want to be able to say to the people of New York – I did everything we could do. And if everything we do saves just one life, I’ll be happy.” Reno upbraids: “What about justice, beauty, and honor? There are many things more precious than life.”

Reno posted his piece at the pro-life First Things, an irony not lost on authors such as Max Boot.

A self-fulfilling doomsday

Fortunately, other influencers see the glaring logical flaws. US Rep. Liz Cheney (R-Wyoming), hardly a fire-breathing lefty, tweeted this: “There will be no normally functioning economy if our hospitals are overwhelmed and thousands of Americans of all ages, including our doctors and nurses, lay dying because we have failed to do what’s necessary to stop the virus.”

In other words, Social Darwinist “realism” isn’t realistic. It spells economic doom.

Cheney’s not alone. Some of the most eloquent voices come from the center-right (classical conservatism roots itself in the thought of Edmund Burke – 1729-1797 – who valued tradition and community). The Bulwark’s Alan Cross, a Southern Baptist pastor, wrote a post entitled, “Our Parents Are Not Expendable.” He says: “As a Christian, Jesus tells me to love my neighbor, who in this case includes the business owner who is looking at his company going under, the waitress who just got laid off because her restaurant closed, the immigrant laborer who was fired last week as his factory cut back—and our parents and grandparents who cannot now leave the house for fear that they will catch this disease and die a gruesome death in a short period of time. If we’re not willing to go to war with this virus and fight for all of them, then we’ve already lost..”

Medical professionals are already faced with grievous choices, partly because authorities turned a deaf ear to early warnings and didn’t obtain enough life-saving equipment. Still, the COVID-19 pandemic forces us to ponder: Is grandma a wrinkled and dispensable sprocket, worthy only insofar as she’s useful in the remorseless machine? Or is she an exalted imago dei? Our answer to that fundamental question will guide us toward the right questions and formulating the best policy in the upcoming days.

Social Darwinism peaked from behind the curtain and waved hello, taking its cue from President Donald Trump’s March 22nd tweet: “WE CANNOT LET THE CURE BE WORSE THAN THE PROBLEM ITSELF. AT THE END OF THE 15 DAY PERIOD, WE WILL MAKE A DECISION AS TO WHICH WAY WE WANT TO GO!”

The implicit message: The strong and healthy will only stand still for so long; the weak and the sick better catch up. It’s steeped in nihilistic Social Darwinism, whose advocates usually guise their canons in the language of free enterprise and nonintervention and deregulation: Let market forces prevail and all will be well. But the tweet liberated them. They were free at last to proclaim their unvarnished, survival-of-the-fittest world view. Some framed it as grim realism (“most can’t bear hearing this, but …”). Texas Lieutenant Governor Dan Patrick even offered himself as a martyr (“No one reached out to me and said, ‘as a senior citizen, are you willing to take a chance on your survival in exchange for keeping the America that all America loves for your children and grandchildren?’ … And if that’s the exchange, I’m all in.”).

The discredited 19th-century philosophy, which has been seeping back into the American psyche for decades, applies theories of natural selection to human society: Might makes right in this pitiless universe. The era’s robber barons and captains of industry employed it to enforce 12-hour work days and paltry wages. They thumbed their noses at Matthew 25:31-40:

“When the Son of Man comes in his glory, and all the angels with him, then he will sit on the throne of his glory. All the nations will be gathered before him, and he will separate people one from another as a shepherd separates the sheep from the goats, and he will put the sheep at his right hand and the goats at the left. Then the king will say to those at his right hand, ‘Come, you that are blessed by my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world; for I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you welcomed me, I was naked and you gave me clothing, I was sick and you took care of me, I was in prison and you visited me.’ Then the righteous will answer him, ‘Lord, when was it that we saw you hungry and gave you food, or thirsty and gave you something to drink? And when was it that we saw you a stranger and welcomed you, or naked and gave you clothing? And when was it that we saw you sick or in prison and visited you?’And the king will answer them, ‘Truly I tell you, just as you did it to one of the least of these who are members of my family, you did it to me.’”

Nuts to that sentimental nonsense, say the self-characterized realistists. We gotta come back to Earth and breathe the dirty air.

Sample Attorney Scott A. McMillan. He boldly tweeted on March 23:

Notice McMillan’s assumptions: The sick and the elderly carry a huge price tag (they’re “generally expensive to maintain”) and fail to do their bit (they’re “not productive”). Don’t count the moments grandpa bounced little Emily on his knee or grandma told Joey she’d beat up the monster under his bed (thus ridding him of those nightmares). We can’t measure such trifles in billable hours, so they don’t count. Human beings are economic cogs; worth is always measured in dollars.

Classical Christianity, of course, says that’s twisted. We possess intrinsic worth because we’re made in God’s image. Money is made to serve the human community, not vice versa. As Russell Moore says: “Each human life is more significant than a trillion-dollar gross national product. Stocks and bonds are important, yes, but human beings are created in the image of God.”

Not in this world. Competition amid scarcity is always the name of the game. Laura Ingraham of Fox News played into that ethos with this tweet, written a few hours after McMillan’s:

Can’t we harness our thoughts and channel them toward synergy? Maybe we’ll ask different questions: “How can medical and government wonks cooperate to save our lives and our pocket books?”

No. That’s not realistic. The lions and hyenas are snarling over a carcass on the drought-riddled plain, and we carnivores better grab our chunk of meat before it rots. And watch your back. Every friend’s a potential enemy. It’s rich versus poor; weak versus strong; young versus elderly; and doctors versus government officials.

She’s not alone. Some of the most eloquent voices come from the center-right (classical conservatism roots itself in Edmund Burke’s philosophy, which valued community). The Bulwark’s Alan Cross, a Southern Baptist pastor, wrote a post entitled, “Our Parents Are Not Expendable.” He says:

As a Christian, Jesus tells me to love my neighbor, who in this case includes the business owner who is looking at his company going under, the waitress who just got laid off because her restaurant closed, the immigrant laborer who was fired last week as his factory cut back—and our parents and grandparents who cannot now leave the house for fear that they will catch this disease and die a gruesome death in a short period of time.

If we’re not willing to go to war with this virus and fight for all of them, then we’ve already lost.

The first is the church. Jana MacDonald, a fellow member of St. Paul’s in Willington, CT., plugged our Livestream service and then told us to “be” the church the rest of the week. She gives practical suggestions accompanied with hearts:

Check on your elderly neighbors. Practice “social distancing.” Share the toilet paper you’ve been hoarding. Donate food to your local shelters. Support your local restaurants by purchasing gift certificates that can be used later. If you choose to eat out, tip generously. Support local freelancers whose incomes may be effected by the need for social distancing: musicians, photographers, therapists, etc. Support hourly wage workers by offering childcare so they can continue to work. Take care of yourself. Rest, exercise, get out in nature, eat healthy food, meditate, limit news/social media consumption. Reach out and ask for help if you need it. Find ways to stay encouraged and connected.

She’s telling us to tap into the traditional Christian response to epidemics and pandemics. Moses Y. Lee plumbs that heritage at the Gospel Coalition. See his “What the Early Church Can Teach Us About the Coronavirus.” Third and fourth-century plagues afflicted the Roman Empire. The pagans looked out for Number One and avoided the sick at all costs; Christians showed compassion and self-sacrifice. The consequence: The empire’s beleaguered residents were grateful and many abandoned paganism.

Andy Crouch, a national Christian leader, didn’t leap to conclusions and actually did research on the coronavirus. He wrote a helpful what-to-do-and-not-to-do essay here in an article entitled, “Love in the Time of Coronavirus.”

The second scene is Italy, of all places, which has reported 21,157 cases and 1,441 deaths (as of Sunday afternoon, March 15). The nation is locked down and hospitals are jammed, yet its people find room for innovative celebration. Here, neighborhood residents stepped onto their balconies and sang the national anthem together:

And in Rome:

Here, Italian air force pilots greet everyone with the late Luciano Pavarotti’s rendition of Nessun Dorma (let no one sleep). The lyrics say venceremos (we will overcome). The jets face a single plane, symbolizing the virus, and defeat it with the nation’s flag.

The final scene shows how bizarre things are. I actually find encouragement at Fox News. Early last week, Trish Regan of “Trish Regan Prime Time” rambled about how publicity over the pandemic was yet another impeachment ploy. Predictably, many were appalled. Unpredictably, Fox News higher-ups were among them. Said one anonymous producer: “The attempt to deflect and blame the media and Democrats from Trish Regan, Sean Hannity, Laura Ingraham, Lou Dobbs, Jesse Watters, and Greg Gutfeld instead of addressing the coronavirus is really irresponsible and hazardous to our viewers.” An internal e-mail from a CEO said: “Please keep in mind that viewers rely on us to stay informed during a crisis of this magnitude and we are providing an important public service to our audience by functioning as a resource for all Americans.”

True, the author of the New Testament Book of Hebrews warns against “neglecting to meet to together as is the habit of some” (10:25, ESV), but we New Englanders cancel church services without batting a lash. We know cars slip-slide on the roads in blizzards and sleet storms. We don’t want families landing in emergency rooms, and we don’t want dear old Marge, bless her, to break her hip on the cement steps.

Apply that common sense to pandemics. Obviously, we won’t habitually cancel services (note Hebrews 10:25 again), nor will we quiver in fear. We’ll merely be good citizens of the City of Man even while our primary citizenship lies in the City of God, to steal from Augustine’s terminology. The City of Man is in the midst of a health blizzard, a veritable virus storm. Marge, who is especially endangered, might catch the coronavirus. And it does no good to tell her to stay home while the rest of us convene. We might catch the disease and, before we’re symptomatic, spread it to her on our weekly visits.

I thank God that my church, St. Paul’s of Willington, CT, has chosen to cancel worship tomorrow. Ryan Spooner, its pastor, e-mailed the congregation with a model explanation. I’ve pasted the e-mail with his permission, throwing in a few edits for clarity’s sake:

Dear Church,

Over the last couple days, Pastor Keith Anderson (the associate), myself, and the Board have been thinking, praying, and researching about the coronavirus situation. We have decided that this week we will not be gathering for worship. Instead, this week we will be attempting to provide a livestream service (which will also be accessible afterward).

As you are probably aware, over the last several days many have made changes in order to help prevent the spread of the coronavirus. The Packing House, where we meet for worship, has decided to cancel its March events. The University of Connecticut, which is just down the road, has asked students not to return after Spring Break and is offering its courses online until at least early April. Many schools across the country are making the same decision, including Gordon-Conwell seminary, my alma mater on the Massachusetts North Shore. The NCAA has canceled March Madness. The NBA, the MLB, and the NHL have all suspended or postponed their seasons. Broadway has gone dark. Disneyland is closed. Residents at a nearby adult residential care center are not allowed to receive visitors or to leave the facility. Many local schools are closing as well, including those in Manchester and Mansfield. The list goes on and on.

This was a very difficult decision to make. Gathering for weekly worship is very important, and as followers of Christ we should not be ruled by fear. However, we are also called to love our neighbors, and in a time like this one of the most loving things we can do is reduce the chance that this virus will spread. We should not panic, but we should also be good stewards of the information we have. The health experts seem unanimous: if we want to avoid the worst-case scenarios, now is the time to be proactive about social distancing.

In the past, followers of Christ have put their faith in action in remarkable ways during epidemics. If you have a chance, I encourage you to read this article for perspective. We should be praying and reflecting on how we can “be the church” in this situation, and we cannot do that if we are controlled simply by our instinct for self-preservation and the fear of death. As you might remember from last week’s sermon on Revelation 10 – 11, one of the main messages of the book is that God intends to build his church through the sacrificial love of his people. In the coming days and weeks, God may open up special opportunities for us to do just that. The leadership of St. Paul’s will be actively considering what these opportunities might be. In the meantime, we think it is an act of sacrificial love to forgo meeting so we can help stop the spread of the virus.

I recognize that some may consider this a fearful overreaction, but I think it is better to err on the side of caution. It would be a great tragedy if efforts to stop the spread of coronavirus in our country were inadvertently sabotaged primarily by churches. That would be very harmful to our witness.

Thankfully, most people who get coronavirus will be fine. But there are some who will need special medical attention, and for their sake we should be proactive about preventing the spread of the virus. Let’s not panic, let’s be wise. I encourage you to follow the guidelines on the CDC website.

We are not sure how long this situation will last, but however long it does we will not be abandoning ministry or fellowship. We will be in touch soon about plans for Sunday’s remote service, and hope you can all be part of that. I intend to say more about all of this in this week’s sermon.

If you have any questions or ideas about any of this, please don’t hesitate to get in touch!

The growing Coronavirus/COVID-19 scare makes me wistful for the innocence of my California childhood, when teachers at West Covina’s Rowland Avenue Elementary School ordered us baby-boomers under our desks in duck-and-cover rehearsals for a Russian thermonuclear attack. They issued their time-honored command (“NO TALKING!”) because, apparently, the commie missiles honed in our whispers.

Such is my momentary take as the nation shuts down and the stock market plummets and the Trump administration files correctives after the president’s scripted March 11th speech (not even preparation and a teleprompter halted his inaccuracies). The very atmosphere seems surreal — like it did under those desks. I can’t even distract myself with a good hockey game. Basketball is out (the NBA suspended its season when Rudy Gobert of the Utah Jazz tested positive after he casually touched his teammates and a set of microphones; he thought he was immune). What’s more, Major League Baseball has been delayed.

Duck and cover.

Both my wife and I rank among the high risk, so we take the pandemic seriously. But we’re not panicking. We’ll live a monastic-style life for awhile and observe the world via social networks. Some of the entries are gems. Here are some samples.

First, there’s a quote from a cartoon. I won’t publish the picture due to copy-write regulations. The caption is still golden. A husband says to his wife: “That’s odd: My Facebook friends who were Constitutional scholars just a month ago are now infectious disease experts …”

Beth Moore was in the same groove when she tweeted:

And here’s another Beth Moore tweet:

Tish Harrison Warren noticed some of the social media bravado and wrote this:

And then there’s one of mine after I came across a comment by Senator Tom Cotton (R-Arkansas):

Such is the state of benign commentary at this surreal historical moment.

A stable genius would normally refer medical issues to the U.S. Center for Disease Control, but President Trump’s brilliance spans beyond international diplomacy, economics, and politics. He and his minions know more than scientists. That’s why they’ve dismissed climate science and, now, clamp down on doctors.

Sample a recent Associated Press headline: “Official: White House didn’t want to tell seniors not to fly.” That seems benign until we read the lead paragraph: “The White House overruled health officials who wanted to recommend that elderly and physically fragile Americans be advised not to fly on commercial airlines because of the new coronavirus, a federal official told The Associated Press.”

Apparently, the president’s instinctual love for medicine prevails over research. “I like this stuff. I really get it,” he said during his recent visit to the U.S. Center for Disease Control. “People are surprised that I understand it. Every one of these doctors said, ‘How do you know so much about this?’ Maybe I have a natural ability. Maybe I should have done that instead of running for president.”

Call me paranoid, but I face a problem: I’m filed with “high risk” Americans, what with chemotherapy reducing my resistance to disease, and I’ve got fiduciary and relational obligations to try to stay alive. Thus, I’ll take any expert advice that’s out there — not Twitter or Facebook advice or warped information from conspiracy theorists — but sound data-informed counsel, which is the C.D.C motif. Granted, only a relative few Americans have been reportedly infected: 754 as of this writing (early afternoon, March 10), twenty eight of whom have died. But the trends make me less than sanguine: there were 541 reported cases on March 8; 435 on March 7; 319 on March 6; 158 on March 4; and 100 on March 1.

And then there’s Italy.

Some of my tax dollars have funded C.D.C research and salaries so I can get sound medical advice. The agency’s conscientious officials want us to get what we’ve paid for, so much so that one chose to leak information to the press. I’m sharing that leak here so we can all be well-informed.

No sooner did I chide some of Elizabeth Warren’s followers than a friend pinged me: “Look at this Facebook post praising the Democratic presidential candidate,” she said.

I read it. I was impressed. I was eager to paste it here. I could display my even-handed fairness. After all, I’m not anti-Warren per se. I just think some fans raced to unsubstantiated America-can’t-tolerate-assertive-women conclusions when her popularity plunged. Professional campaign organizers would ask: “What did we do wrong?” They’d see the legitimate questions hovering over her policy proposals and, perhaps more vital in this all-important election year, her lack of old fashioned salesmanship: She snubbed the slew of Americans holding to traditional marriage beliefs. Classic baby-kissing politicians know how to advocate a viewpoint without demeaning the other side – especially when that issue is rooted in religion.

Democratic primary voters must ask: Does Warren have the political chops to woo those 2016 stay-at-home Rustbelt voters? Remember Michigan, Pennsylvania, Wisconsin, Ohio, and Florida.

Then came my friend’s ping. I was thrilled. I’d paste it. I searched for the author to get permission. I came up empty, but my friend assured me the essay has been passed around so much I should go ahead.

But, like I said, I was too slow. Warren is her own worst enemy. She wielded her acerbic wit over the weekend in a passing comment: “I want to talk specifically for just a minute at the top, about a threat that is coming our way. And it’s a big threat. Not a tall one but a big one: Michael Bloomberg (emphasis added).”

Think of America’s short people as they remember mocking playground bullies. Happy, are they? Think of doubters over her political acumen. Are they assured? Think of all dwelling in the so-called fly-over states, suspicious of coastal liberalism’s discourtesy. What’s their verdict on a candidate who fires cheap shots for cheap laughs?

I repeat my theme in the last post: Intellectual brilliance is not enough. Voters long for a smart president who cares.

It’s a pity, even a tragedy. Insiders say Warren really does care — and, in my opinion, she’s the preferable of the two 2020 Democratic lefties. As the following essay shows, she’s given a lot of thought to America’s dilemmas and she’s rolled-out impressive plans. It’s too bad she can’t restrain herself when the cameras are rolling.

Her ideas deserve a hearing. I don’t agree with all of them, of course, but this essay presents them well. Here it is, cleansed of some foul language and edited of analysis of other candidates:

I started reading Warren’s plans in regard to the wealth tax and then Medicare for All. I was a compliance officer at a healthcare brokerage when ACA (Affordable Care Act) was being implemented so I have a lot of insight as to what it’s going to take to make a wholesale change to our healthcare system. Anyone who claims they can fully implement M4A (Medicare for All) on day one without Congress is naive or lying. A total changeover solely by any president isn’t feasible.

Having read Warren’s plan, I believe it has the best chance of being successfully implemented and, unlike ACA, the three phase implementation (to be clear, it’s three phases within three years so M4A will be fully implemented within her first term) is set up to move more and more people to M4A so people can try it, like it and support the next step. ACA had bad PR and marketing made worse by Republican opposition. People didn’t start liking it until around the time it was being taken away. Warren compensates for that.

Warren is very smart and has experience navigating the process of creating and changing a system for the better despite opposition from Republicans and Wall Street. We need that sort of experience to get stuff done. Heck, she found the legal criteria for a president to unilaterally lower prices on the most common drugs.

She’s a policy wonk who uses that info to put together plans that can actually work. I don’t want pie-in-the-sky ideas. I want someone who has big ideas AND concrete, tangible plans for how to pay for and implement them. Of all the campaign documentation I’ve read, hers meet that criteria the best.

I also really like Warren’s plans for LBGTQA rights, the disability community, regulating giant corporations, Native American rights, etc. While I haven’t read every plan of hers yet (there are a lot!) the ones I have read are well thought out AND she credits experts from within each marginalized community or policy oversight group (depending upon the topic) who contributed to the plan. She gets buy-in from the marginalized communities involved.

And Warren walks her talk. A disabled friend who is politically active attended a Warren/Castro rally to check them out. She was highly impressed by how well-prepared every aspect of their accessibility accommodations were. She didn’t even have to ask for certain things. They had sign language interpreters. They started the event by announcing their pronouns. She said she had never felt so seen and welcome at any event before. That tells me Warren’s disability and LBGTQA positions aren’t just lip service.

Warren also made a point of looking at plans by people who dropped out of the race and if they had something she believed in she went to that person and asked their permission to add it to her platform with their name. So Harris’ plan for laws to ensure body autonomy and Gillibrand’s plans for childcare (Warren already had a plan to pay for universal childcare but Gillibrand had details she didn’t) were incorporated into her campaign. Why? Because she said that just because a marginalized person leaves the table their issues shouldn’t. That’s someone with their heart in the right place, and the humility to realize they don’t have all the ideas.

Things like that and how she reaches out to other marginalized communities and LISTENS to their concerns and needs — I want that in a leader. I also think it’s a quality that will be essential in building unity both in the party and nationally for the long haul.

She’s been talking a lot lately about corruption in D.C. and how corporations have essentially bought the process because that’s an issue people all across the political spectrum can agree upon. She still plans to do the wealth tax, M4A, etc. but she’s got to get voters in the door to listen before she can pitch them on those topics. That’s called strategy but she gets accused of “backpedaling” if she doesn’t list *every* policy position she has in every three minute soundbite.

Last time around the media was working hard to erase Bernie because he scared them. This time they’re erasing Warren. That tells you something, IMO.

I like Bernie (though I swear some of his supporters are trying to change that). He’s my second choice, but I want a mix of ideas/systemic change AND concrete plans for accomplishing them. Warren hits that sweet spot for me.

I’ve watched several interviews with Bernie, including the extended NYT endorsement interview, where, in response to the question “How will you implement your ideas if the GOP holds the Senate” he says something along the lines of “our movement will make them cooperate.” I have a background in communications, film and video production and criticism. I watch for the cuts in the interviews. There aren’t any that could involve lopping off an answer. That’s both too vague and too idealistic for my taste. It also feels vaguely cultish.

Warren does talk about the three phase implementation of M4A giving people a chance to like it so they can fight for it but it’s tied to a more practical plan that Medicare would have been expanded for at least a year and a half before mid-term elections to galvanize voters. You could argue both approaches are similar but one is definitely more grounded and practical.

Bernie is my second choice, followed by Klobuchar, but Warren’s mix of wanting to make big, systemic change and practical plans with methods to pay for them is what I want in a leader. Funding for some of Bernie’s plans is definitely fuzzy in places, and I want more implementation details.

Whoever beats trump is going to have a mess on their hands. They have to rebuild the government and get Congress to pass laws to prevent repeats in the future, like forcing prospective candidates to turn over their tax returns when they file to run. The sort of practical, methodical approach Warren has demonstrated for years will be needed because we have to fix things as fast as possible, like restoring the Scientific Council and rebuilding the State Dept, which trump has been hollowing out.

And I think Warren can make mincemeat of trump in a general campaign. Bernie’s debate performance has been mixed. Warren went to college the first time on a debate scholarship. He’s going to attack. She’ll do a mix of getting under his skin and making him look unhinged. It won’t change his cultish base, but it will work for other people.

Plus, you know, there is an element of “judge people by their enemies” and the fact that Warren scares Bezos, Zuck and even Bloomberg so much makes me happy.

Oh, and teeing up Castro as a prospective running mate is the cherry on top. He’s young, smart, eloquent and Latino. He could put Texas back in play and force the GOP to defend it (it’s been trending purplish, albeit reddish purple). I’d like to see Bernie pick Harris, Andrew Gillim or Stacy Abrams as a running mate but have seen no signs of that sort of thinking.

So I don’t dislike Bernie but careful consideration and deep research has made me an enthusiastic supporter for Warren as my first choice. She isn’t perfect. No candidate is. But she ticks more boxes that are important to me.

It seems my inner sexist escaped its cell and now ransacks my soul. It’s obvious. I no longer lean toward a particular female candidate vying for the 2020 Democratic nomination, although I remain open. Never mind that I previously favored another Democratic woman and now lean toward yet another – and forget about my support for the 2016 Democratic nominee (a woman) and my votes for women in state elections.

I’m a bigoted chauvinist. Who knew?

I actually sympathize with my accusers: Elizabeth Warren’s partisans are shocked. They’re mourning. She had surged in early polls and was held aloft as the near-front runner, but then she fell prey to a classic American political tradition, dating back to Edmund Muskie’s 1972 debacle: Her popularity crumbled amid her own missteps and she did poorly in Iowa and miserably in New Hampshire. That doesn’t bode well for future caucuses and primaries, although a strong Nevada debate performance on February 19 may rally support.

Anger often wells from grief, so some Warren supporters are lashing out: Chauvinist America still has no place for an intellectually powerful woman, they say. Columnist Monica Hesse lamented that Warren was the “kind of woman everyone had decided they didn’t like or couldn’t win.” Amy Sullivan reported on Twitter: “I’m not sure anyone appreciates the deep well of anger and pain among Warren supporters—many of whom are the women whose activism drove 2018—listening to experts write off Elizabeth Warren’s campaign … Boomer women are especially livid at the idea that a smart, eminently competent woman isn’t enough. That isn’t to say her campaign has been perfect or that she’s even the right nominee. But I haven’t seen this anger noted anywhere.”

What about Joe Biden’s simultaneous downfall? The one-time front-runner seems to be tramping on his well-worn path over two previous presidential runs: He has yet to win a caucus or a primary and he’s following Muskie’s trail this year. Are dark motives lurking within churlish anti-Bidenites? Or are the Iowa and New Hampshire votes the inevitable consequences of a lurching campaign accompanied by lackluster debate performances (like Warren, he was strong in Nevada)?

What about Amy Klobuchar? Why has she suddenly surged? And, if I’m such a sexist, why am I now considering her after my Warren disappointment? And why did I initially lean toward Kamala Harris? Surely my inner sexist could have found a suitable male and concocted the requisite rationalizations.

The accusations bring back memories. I remember the 2008 battle for the Democratic nomination. I was ready to support Hillary Clinton but winced at her campaign’s disorganization and inner-feuding. It was all so eerily familiar: It seemed the 1990’s Clinton soap opera was upon us again. My admiration for Obama increased as my support for her plummeted: I saw his well-honed campaign and his maturity and I heard his eloquence. So I changed camps. Some of her supporters looked past her campaign’s unsavory tactics in the South Carolina primary and levied accusations of female hatred. That didn’t exactly win me back.

I remember 2008 again. The Republicans nominated Sarah Palin for vice president. Ripples of fear cascaded across the land as we whispered, “a heartbeat away from the presidency.” She didn’t know basic facts; her viewpoints suggested intimate familiarity with the John Birch Society’s world view; and, in at least one interview, she couldn’t string together coherent sentences.

How did her minions respond to the critical onslaught? We didn’t like women – which was laughable.

Again, I’m far more sympathetic with Warren’s advocates. Fact is, she’s brilliant; fact is, she published detailed policy proposals; fact is, she fought for more stringent banking regulations after the 2008 economic collapse and has championed consumer protection. But she has real weaknesses, and I feel obligated to consider them as I weigh my vote: She seems to be hermetically sealed in Eastern liberalism’s echo chamber. She snubbed those with traditional marriage beliefs in an October debate, winning laughs from the chamber’s crowd but frowns from the hinterland. A good politician – like Obama or Bill Clinton – instinctively reaches out. Remember Obama in 2009: “Let’s honor the conscience of those who disagree with abortion …”

And then there was her sweeping “Medicare For All” health insurance proposal, hanging out there without a funding plan until November, when she revealed it would cost over $20 trillion over a decade. And her ill-conceived wealth tax – which, among other things, may not pass constitutional muster.

But even more important are the intangibles. I cannot ignore them even in the face of her loyalists’ wrath: Like it or not, intellectual brilliance is not enough. Both Obama and Clinton were smart as whips (indeed, Clinton filled-in The New York Times crossword puzzle in ink), but they also possessed political and social intelligence. Every pore in their skin declared, “I like you. I care about you.” Democrats need a candidate with this kind of intelligence if they’re to win in November – and, alas, I’m not sure Warren has it.

Unseating the current president must rank as the highest priority, which means we must consider a would-be nominee’s political instincts.

Supporters of any candidate – including Warren’s – must remember: We do not owe your would-be nominee our votes. A candidate is obligated to convince us that he or she is the lone politician worthy of occupying the oval office for at least four years. Second-guessing our motives implicitly switches the tables: I must give you reasons why I opted for someone else.

Sorry, but that’s not how it works.

]]>https://charlesredfern.com/2020/02/20/are-warren-doubts-rooted-in-misogyny/feed/0chuckredfernA pro-lifer’s lamenthttps://charlesredfern.com/2020/02/14/a-pro-lifers-lament/
https://charlesredfern.com/2020/02/14/a-pro-lifers-lament/#respondFri, 14 Feb 2020 20:42:53 +0000http://charlesredfern.com/?p=7066Tish Harrison Warren, author of The Liturgy of the Ordinary, captured the exasperation of the Democratic-leaning pro-life voter on Twitter. To be fair, both Nancy Pelosi and Amy Klobuchar have welcomed pro-lifers; but, often, the supposedly Big Tent zips its door shut at the whiff of abortion opponents. It’s as if we’re malaria-bearing mosquitoes.